


Hawk vs. Hammer

by Zaniida



Series: Five Moments of Intimacy (MCU) [7]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Compare and Contrast, Ending May or May Not Be Positive, FMI, FMNI, Five Moments of (Nonsexual) Intimacy, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Oblivious Thor (Marvel), Or Possibly Worse, Resentment, Taking Comfort Where He Can Get It, Taking Comfort from Hawkeye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26529817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaniida/pseuds/Zaniida
Summary: Five ways in which Loki received intimacy and comfort from the brainwashed Hawkeye, and five ways he failed to receive it from Thor (during the same film).(Small wonder Loki finds Thor's claims of "brotherhood" to be little more than the wind coming out of his mouth.)P.S. I'm not sold on the name; it might change.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Loki, Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Series: Five Moments of Intimacy (MCU) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626034
Comments: 26
Kudos: 70
Collections: August Intimacy - September Stragglers 2020





	1. Hawk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabentochter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/gifts), [Farbenfroh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farbenfroh/gifts).



> Another little piece for **Rabentochter** , out of nowhere ^_^ Hope you like it!
> 
> ETA: Aaand I found in my notes that this had also been intended to go to **Farbenfroh**. (My notes are as scatterbrained as I am.) Your line about _more of a victim himself then a villain_ was part of the reason that this was aimed in your direction.
> 
> Anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been kinda ranty about canonical MCU Thor lately. Noticing how he only really interacts with Loki when they're fighting or when Thor wants something from him. It's pathetic, and no way to show that any brotherly bond ever existed.
> 
> Let's take a quick jaunt through the series, shall we? (Correct me if I'm wrong on any of these points. Or just skip the rant and get straight to the story, if you prefer.)
> 
>  _Thor_ : On Earth, Thor doesn't even _mention_ that he has a brother. He stops to teach Jane cosmology, but doesn't tell any grand tales of his family -- even though, given that they're around a campfire, and he's got Viking culture in his blood, _and_ he tells such tales in later films, it'd make sense for him to do so. Doesn't tell them when he's drunk, either. It's as if his family, and especially his brother, doesn't exist for him while he's on vacation.
> 
> (Compare how much of Loki's side of the film is _steeped_ in its relation to Thor.)
> 
>  _Avengers_ : Thor's first act upon running into Loki is to assault him, kidnap him, yell at him, threaten him with Mjolnir... and also beg him to "come home" because "we were raised together; does that mean nothing?" and that's _so_ convincing in that context. Thor doesn't even bother to ask where were you, what happened, are you okay?
> 
> Once Loki's locked up, Thor doesn't interact with him _in the slightest_ until the helicarrier is under siege and Loki is already escaping. Multiple people come talk to Loki, but not Thor. What does Thor do instead? Speculate on his motivations ( _all_ about Thor, because Thor is that full of himself and never bothers to think anything could _not_ be about Thor), throws Loki away for a laugh line -- oh, and discuss with Fury the possibility of torturing Loki, which Thor is only against on the grounds "it won't work."
> 
>  _The Dark World_ : Thor is not involved in Odin's sentencing, nor does he show any sign that he finds it the least bit questionable (4000-year sentence to solitary confinement). In a cut scene, he bitches about Frigga "coddling" Loki by giving him a bed and some books. He doesn't visit Loki for a year, and then only because he needs Loki's help.
> 
> There's a lot worse stuff after that, but let's just focus on that absence: Thor has repeatedly flouted Odin's orders (committed treason) for such reasons as "go stir things up on Jotunheim" and "save my girlfriend," yet he obeys Odin's order to not visit Loki. And he disowns Loki in the same breath as asking for his help.
> 
> And finally, in _Ragnarok_ , Thor bullies Loki into a tactic that Loki says is "embarrassing," shows zero empathy for Loki's annoyance, and then leaves Loki in a state of torture and utter helplessness to whichever enemies might show up. And grins like an asshole as he does it. Primo hero material here, folks.
> 
> So, like, the summary says: _Small wonder Loki finds Thor's claims of "brotherhood" to be little more than the wind coming out of his mouth._
> 
> Let's compare that to Hawkeye, shall we?

His time in the void has been surpassingly brutal; his captors, for all their savagery, all too patient. Over countless months, perhaps years now, they have wheedled out his worst fears, along with the shattered remnants of his hopes and dreams. Cracked him open, tore him up, stitched him back together to puppet out their desires under a parchment-thin shell of his own.

When they place the scepter in his hands, there is nothing left within him to resist the dark song it sends throbbing through his head.

The only way forward is to conquer, and a gloating smile spreads across his face as he wraps his fingers around the scepter and steps through the gate.

It feels good—empowering—to slaughter the room, as he could not slaughter his captors; to show that he has never been a weakling and _will never be again_.

Some of the faces seem familiar, from the vague, hazy, eroded memories of time before the void, his previous glimpses of the mortal plane. These, he does not kill. The scientist, he needs; he remembers that much.

The hawk, he _wants_. And as he closes in and looks him over, the scepter in his hand sings a darker song, a desire to possess such talent, to bend it to his will.

He does.

* * *

Hot, dry air is no relief to his still-healing lungs _(do not think on what they put you through, it cannot help)_ , and despite his show of combat prowess he is still weak enough that it’s a struggle, sometimes, to move his body how it needs to move. When he stumbles, the hawk catches his elbow and steadies him until he regains his balance. He accepts this as his due, without acknowledging it.

Once they’ve found a hiding place, there is time to tend his wounds. He would do so alone, as he has always done _(has he?)_ , but the hawk is there, unexpectedly, helping him to remove his armor, washing and binding up the welts, the burns, the lacerations.

Perhaps it is a mistake to drop the glamour and let him see the marks of torment played out across his skin, but the hawk does not comment on it. Once the bindings are in place they work as one to replace the armor.

Then he pulls the glamour back around himself, and the scepter hums approval; it is foolishness to allow the enemy to see you weak.

* * *

The hawk is a wellspring of knowledge about the mortal realm, and Loki drinks from it greedily, so long denied any knowledge other than fear and pain and the desires of his captors. Tactical information at first (SHIELD, Stark Tower, the Avengers), but soon enough he has a clear picture of how this will all play out, and they delve into other topics. Technology. The arts. The hawk’s history, his interests, his wife and children—and others, no longer in his life.

So much of Loki’s history is shrouded behind the mind-fog, but parts of it come into sharp focus as the hawk describes a harsh, implacable father, an estranged brother who mocked his talents and nearly killed him.

The scepter hums in his grasp, and sings to him of rising above the ones who look down on him, of showing himself their superior in every way. He will conquer, and none shall stand in his way.

* * *

Within the mind-realm of the Other, the scepter’s song cannot comfort him, cannot propel him forward to meet his destiny. Trained by agony and terror, he stands motionless as The Other prowls around him, drumming in what awaits him should he stray from the path they have set.

He did not need the reminder, but his captors are thorough in the nets they weave about him; there can be no escape.

The Other’s hand brushes his brow and the **_jolt_** through his brain leaves him scattered and breathless, back on Midgard, trembling as the tingling pain slowly fades and the song reasserts itself.

And the hawk is there, watching.

When Loki takes a shaky breath, the hawk moves in, helps him to his feet.

“It’s all right,” the hawk says. “You’re here. You’re safe.”

“Safety is an illusion,” Loki counters coldly, despairingly. How long has he been crying? The anguish feels ready to burst out of him, but he can’t let it, not yet.

The hawk guides him to a cot and helps him down. “I’m here to protect you. Ain’t much safer than that, for now.”

The words are next to meaningless, but Loki takes comfort in the fact that they were offered—and tries to ignore that that, too, is an illusion.

* * *

“It’s not weakness,” the hawk says, “giving in to torture.”

Startled, Loki turns to look at him; he’s never explained the circumstances of his arrival. Of course, the hawk’s keen awareness should hardly come as a surprise.

“Everybody breaks,” the hawk adds, and Loki finds himself pinning the hawk to the wall, by the neck, shaking with sudden rage that seems almost not his own.

“ _I’m not broken_ ,” he hisses in the hawk’s ear, feeling the pulse beating beneath his fingertips.

“Not what I said,” the hawk gasps out, calm eyes betraying not the slightest fear.

Loki drops him, the scepter singing of how useful the hawk is, how delightful to own him so completely that he does not even flinch from your attacks.

But that connection has opened up an awareness between them, and Loki does not appreciate being so naked in the sight of another, even an ally.

To be known, and _accepted_. To have his weaknesses laid bare, and his allies remain despite that. It is all but unbearable. He almost would rather be despised for his weakness than praised despite it.

* * *

“Do you expect your Director Fury to try to break me, then?”

The hawk considers. “He won’t shy from it. You present a grave threat to his domain, and he will use any tool at his disposal to neutralize that threat.”

“I do not fear him. Whatever horrors he may concoct pale in comparison to what I have already survived.” A grim smile paints his face as they arrive. “You know your part. Go swiftly, my hawk; I will see you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter ought to be all the ways Thor failed to connect with Loki while on Earth. I anticipate a third chapter of some sort, if only because two chapters always feels incomplete, though I honestly have no idea what I might want to do with that, and no idea if this short piece will have a positive ending or not.
> 
> Not sure how soon I'll get around to that, though; I've procrastinated on getting my Creepyfest stuff together, I've procrastinated on the next chapter of _Turtles in a Bottle_ , and I still have a couple more FMI pieces that I'd like to post before the month is out.
> 
> But, at least I got _one_ update completed this week! (Sigh.)


	2. Hammer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has begun to see through the lie of Thor's affection, and he refuses to be fooled again.
> 
> How much of that is the scepter altering his perceptions? How much is _not_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wondering about the tone here, compared to the first chapter, but... eh, it's time to [let this loose](https://theoatmeal.com/comics/creativity_petting) into the world, and move on to other things.
> 
>  **Farbenfroh** , sorry I forgot to tag you on the first chapter; hope you like this one!

Thor’s grip on his neck is like a parody of the connection they used to have, as he rips Loki from the restraints and sends them careening off into the storm. It is no surprise to be tossed to the ground, at Thor’s feet as Thor has always understood him to be.

When Thor pulls him up and takes him by the neck again, Loki almost laughs; it’s a pitifully transparent manipulation. Manipulation has never been Thor’s strong point, and the second time he tries it, the selfsame move, Loki can only shake his head.

His disavowal brings out the _true_ feelings Thor has for him: to strike, to pummel, to break him down until Loki no longer believes himself to be on par with the true Prince of Asgard.

No, he cannot be fooled by a little touch on the neck. Not ever again.

* * *

Thor is not used to having people stand in his way. Predictably, he responds with lethal force; less predictably, the mortals survive it long enough to talk him down.

Had Thor managed to slay them, the plan might have swung a different way. Yet the golden prince of Asgard, who has never listened when Loki counseled peace or even caution, listens to the mortals, and stays his hand, and so the plan proceeds as it would have if Thor had never made it to Midgard. One more piece on the board, that is all. The memory of the scepter’s song reminds him of paths he might take, windings within the winding.

They load Loki back on the plane, and as Thor regards him with confused fury, Loki muses on how foreign it must be to Thor, this giving in without a fight. What must he think of the one he still calls ‘brother’? That Loki is weak, or sick, or more wounded than he lets on? It is almost pitiful, watching the simple-minded brute try to puzzle it out. Thor has never had to resort to anything more mentally taxing than swinging a hammer at the problem… he cannot even _begin_ to grasp what Loki might be thinking.

After all, Thor would never let others capture him, take him where they will; it is not for the son of Odin to let others command him, not while there is strength left in him to resist. Ever since they were children, Thor has casually, thoughtlessly overridden the will of those around him, even that of his own supposed brother.

Loki has had to fight for every inch of ground he’s ever gained, and to do so while lacking the strength of arms that every Aesir warrior was born with; he has learned to use craft, and guile, and illusions not even made of seidhr. In a way, it’s his birthright.

And Thor could never conceive of defeat being part of any plan.

That is, of course, why he will lose.

* * *

Not once does Thor seek him out on the helicarrier. Loki entertains a visit from the mortals’ leader, with all his posturing, and then from the deceptive spider _(so dear to the heart of his hawk)_ , but Thor does not come.

Should it surprise him, this lack of concern? After all, Loki is contained, and there is no use in Thor pretending to care; was he not the one who threw Loki headlong into the abyss? _I thought you dead_ , indeed.

_(Loki’s head throbs, and for a moment he aches for the scepter, for the song that filled his very being and made everything make sense for once in his intolerable life. But he knows the mission, and he will have the scepter again soon enough.)_

And then, as the flying ship falters beneath them, Thor finally arrives. A bit late, given that Loki has already been released, the scepter returned to him, but Loki can’t resist a minor trick to put Thor in his place and keep him out of the way. How handy, this trap that the mortals have provided, to thwart even Mjolnir in all its power.

 _(The scepter’s song fills his head again: All the power, all the glory, everything that Thor has always had and you never could attain. It could be yours. It_ will _be yours. He’s just in the way.)_

Hand poised over the button, Loki hesitates. His br– _Thor_ is—he can’t—

_(He threw you into the void; it’s his turn to fall. You fell for months, and you survived: A little tumble like this could hardly destroy a god.)_

“Move away, please,” comes the sudden interruption, and Loki glances over at the mortal who thinks he has the upper hand merely because he holds a fancy weapon. How typical that such a man would be Thor’s ally.

It is the work of a moment to overcome the mortal, and the scepter’s song is pleased with the trick, the efficiency.

But Thor roars his outrage, and bile rises in Loki’s throat.

 _I thought you dead_.

_Did you mourn?_

Thor roars as if he’s lost a friend, a shield-brother, as if this one death has cut him deep, and Loki, vaguely, recalls the man, as seen through the eyes of the Allfather’s throne. So Thor has known him for all of… a year? two years? and, within that time, for barely a handful of days.

_(And yet he roars, and mourns, because this mortal means so much more to him than you ever did, or ever will.)_

_He thought me dead. He thought me dead, and did not ask how I survived, or how I fared. His only thought was for the Tesseract. He was content to leave me in a cage, and would not even come to speak to me until he thought I might escape. And yet he calls me ‘brother’_.

_(A thousand years you’ve shared as princes of Asgard. He threw it all away. He’s never cared about you, only what you can do for him. Only when you’re obeying him. You’re just a puppet to him, a tool, a loyal dog to follow at his heels.)_

_He threw me away. He let me fall_.

It’s easier, now, to reach out for the button, to press it without much feeling. Thor will survive, or he will not, but Loki is done with the pretense. Whatever Loki might become, he can no longer abide living on Thor’s table scraps of elusive, illusive affection.

* * *

As he picks himself up from the man of iron’s parting blast, the Chitauri pour forth from the portal, and the scepter’s song grows triumphant. Looking out over the city in chaos, Loki breaths in the feeling of _rightness_ that infuses his being.

And then a sour note strikes, as Thor lands on the platform below him.

Too long have they fought at each other’s side; now they strike at each other directly, two gods at war as the city around them heaves and burns.

At full strength, it might have been over quickly, but Thor holds back.

 _(Even in combat, he fails to honor you, fails to appreciate all you could be. He’s frustrated that you won’t give in, won’t obey him. He wants to drive you down until you submit to his will; he cannot abide you standing against him. You could destroy him now. You_ should _.)_

 _Drive you down until you submit to his will_. The thought brings a flash, something out of reach, and the song falters; the thought of killing Thor wavers and fades. Thor’s death is not crucial to the plan; everything else is in motion, and all he must do is distract the heroes until the portal is wide enough to allow the bulk of the army through.

There’s a dark pleasure to the battle, in any case—a chance to take out his resentment and rage on the target of his unrelenting ire, and it feels glorious to not fear the consequences.

_(He wants you to yield.)_

_He wants me to stop the invasion_.

_(And when you counseled caution and peace, how often did he listen?)_

_…Never_.

Their fight distracts him enough that he almost misses the flying ship that hovers nearby and turns to aim their way—almost, but he takes note, and takes aim, and—

— _My hawk_ —

The song inside him falters again, almost to nothing, as he spots the archer’s face beneath the glass, but it’s too late and the shot has already taken out one of the engines; the ship spirals down and away and Thor barrels into him with a roar

_(he cares for these mortals as he never cared for you)_

They brace against each other, and Thor shouts in his face: “Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule?”

The city is lit up with random explosions, the Chitauri flying everywhere, the mortals defending their home. And Thor is… begging him to stop the madness.

The madness that began one day on Jotunheim.

_(You were right, you were always right, and no one would listen to you.)_

The madness that began after Loki’s desperate bid to keep Thor from claiming the throne.

_(He pledged to uphold the peace, and started a war because somebody called him a girl.)_

The madness that began when Thor ignored his allies to glory in combat, left them to fight for their lives without him in the battle that _he_ started. Left them to get touched by the frost giants.

_(You were all alone when the lies began to unravel. Is it your fault they drove you to madness?)_

The confrontation with Odin, the short-lived time on the throne, the slaughter of Laufey, the attack on Jotunheim—the fight on the bridge, the fall—the void, the captivity, the torments, the reshaping of his mind—the mission he was given and must fulfill—all of it, _all of it_ , stems from one impetuous princeling who must have his way, who was given advice from the older and wiser yet ignored it all to seek out and spark a war.

Without that day on Jotunheim, Loki would be still on Asgard, still oblivious to his true nature, still a prince…

_(And still at Thor’s heel. Still despised by the ones who were so quick to betray you. Still ignored by Odin, patronized by Frigga, your contributions mocked in every retelling of your adventures with Thor.)_

A war sparking another war; the only difference is where, and why, and whether Thor’s the one who chose it. Everything stems from that day on Jotunheim, and there is no undoing this.

“It’s too late,” Loki says with a grimace. “It’s too late to stop it.”

“No,” Thor returns, a smile blossoming. “We can. _Together_.”

_(He thinks he’s gotten through to you. He thinks he’s brought you to heel.)_

Loki’s blade shoves deep under Thor’s ribs, as deep as it can go through his armor, and as Thor collapses, Loki steps back, grinning.

 _The basest sentimentality_ , he’d said to the spider. He knows better than to fall for these tricks again.

_(He’s a distraction. The mission comes first.)_

There is nothing more to be gained here. When he sees his opening, Loki rolls off the tower and flies away, leaving Thor to stew in his own impotence; Mjolnir may let him fly, but not easily maneuver, and it’s slower than the Chitauri chariots.

Loki seeks out the song, the reminder of the next step of his mission, but it’s gone quiet in his head. He has to remember—he has to succeed—he cannot fail again, _cannot_.

The Other breaks into his head mid-flight, demanding answers about the invasion.

_You wield the scepter, do you not?_

The scepter.

He left it on the tower.

Circling back to retrieve it, he recalls the next part of his mission: to defend the portal until all the ships are through. The fight with Thor truly _was_ a distraction, and as he draws closer to the tower he considers how he might neutralize Thor without killing him

 _(kill him)_ the scepter sings, as he gets close enough to hear it. _(he thinks you’re beneath him) (you’ll never be free if you don’t take him down)_

 _Freedom is life’s great lie_ , he thinks, and the song falters in his head, a pulsing, throbbing pain behind his eyes.

He’s close enough to see the tower when he senses his hawk, and turns in time to catch the arrow. _(another distraction) (how will you deal with him?)_

 _He’s free_ , Loki thinks, not knowing how the hawk has shaken off his enslavement. The throbbing behind his eyes grows worse.

The arrow _explodes_.

Before he’s even on his feet again, the scepter (so close now) reasserts itself, the song more powerful than ever, an almost desperate thrumming: _(How dare they how dare they how dare they. Mortals. Insects. They think to stop us. They think to harm you. They stand in our way, like the traitors did on Asgard. They cannot win; they will feel our power, they will be ground under heel, they are_ nothing _they are_ insects _they are specs of ash before the might of a_ god— _)_

That’s when the Hulk leaps up over the side of the building and smashes him through a pane of glass and into a wall of stone.

* * *

There are many things that Loki could tell Thor now, many that he might actually want to share, now that his head is clearer and the dark, throbbing song of the scepter has fled.

Not that Thor wants to hear a word from him; the muzzle is clear evidence of that. The prince chats with his new shield-mates, shares food with them while Loki sits in the corner, chained like a beast, and they all pointedly ignore him.

_(The hawk does not ignore him. The hawk does not look directly at him, but he keeps his attention on the one he once served. It is a dark form of attention, layered over with fear and hatred and spiteful triumph, but it is all the attention that Loki will get, and he cannot help but relish it.)_

There are many questions that Thor might ask now, if he but stopped to consider the details of the past few days. Where Loki received his army, his scepter; what his true plan was; why he’d been acting so erratic, and why his memories seemed to contradict reality. Thor had come so close, on the cliffside, with one question that could have unraveled it all—the one question that Loki had been in no position to answer at the time: _Who controls the would-be king?_

But Thor, who considers Loki a liar of the highest order, had taken Loki’s words as truth, and may well have forgotten that he ever asked such a thing. Thor cares for battle, not its aftermath; Loki has been brought to heel, the invasion stopped, the Tesseract recovered, and Thor has obviously triumphed, so he sees no reason to bother with the details.

Loki’s secrets will remain his own, then. It’s not the first time Thor has shut him down rather than talk to him, and maybe, one day, Loki will learn his lesson and stop bothering to speak at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! One more day to go here before the year closes out. I'm hoping to get a couple big pieces together for tomorrow, but... well, one is mostly written and the other... not so much. And I've got another thing to work on between then and now. We'll see how that plays out. Stayed tuned for announcements!
> 
> P.S. This piece may have more chapters coming; I anticipate at least one, unless I make it a miniseries and stick the things I'm planning in their own fic. But I'm not quite through with this idea, not yet.


	3. Debriefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's perspective, as he carefully decides which information to share with whom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the Twelve Days of Christmas thing sorta got short-circuited when I started pouring time into a certain significant thing I hope to have up by the end of the month here. Which is basically four things that need to happen all at once, and I hope when it happens that you'll see why it ate up so much of my productivity.
> 
> But! I needed a break, and so I ended up trying for a couple short updates, and this is one.
> 
> It's possible that early February will see a bunch of smaller updates and one-shots, but at this point I'm not promising anything, because we all know how well Zaniida predicts the future 😅 😖 😩
> 
> Anyway! My conception of this fic has increased to probably five chapters. I debated about making it two fics (or more), but it seemed more reasonable to continue within this single fic, and see how that goes.
> 
>  **Content Warnings:** Nightmares (nonspecific), marks of torture, mention of drugs and alcohol. Adult Fears (more detail in end note).

The shrinks get a lot of details about his time under Loki’s thumb, because he’s well aware that he won’t be allowed back in the field without their approval, which won’t be granted if they think he’s holding back—or compromised.

He’s good at giving them the right answers, the misleading intel that will pass their tests (even, sometimes, by making things sound worse than they actually were).

It’s only with Natasha that he lets out the really important details, trusting her not to pass them along—and even then, he doesn’t tell her everything (not that she’d expect him to).

* * *

The shrinks know that Clint handed over intel as fast as Loki asked for it, that his brain was an open book whenever Loki wanted a peek.

To Natasha, he’s confessed that he’d been _thrilled_ to share his knowledge and expertise where they could be truly useful, even aware that ‘useful’ meant helping Loki take over the world. And that after Loki was done with the useful intel, he’d moved on to questions about Clint’s family, seemingly at random. That Clint had been just as happy to supply the details: where they lived, where the kids went to school, how to bypass their defenses. The passcode to make Laura trust that Loki was her husband’s friend.

What he’s never told Natasha is that somehow, despite everything Loki made him do, despite all that Loki did to the world at large, Clint still trusts that he won’t go after his family… and he can’t tell her that because he can’t say exactly _why_.

* * *

The shrinks know that Clint bound Loki’s wounds, and he had to fill out a chart of every detail he could recall, the marks of blades and whips and burns.

Natasha knows that he’s upset about this, but he hasn’t told her why. An invasion of privacy, sure, she gets that _(they already caught the guy, already sent him back to Asgard; what’s the point of putting his wounds on display?)_ , but it’s more than that.

What he hasn’t yet dared to tell her _(what he’s hoping she’ll work out on her own so he doesn’t have to)_ is that the wounds convinced him that Loki wasn’t here of his own free will. Someone tortured him, _extensively_ , and it doesn’t seem like anybody _cares_. Not SHIELD, not Fury, not any of the Avengers, not even Thor—and Clint’s not about to speak up (no, not even to his most trusted friend) because he’s walking a razor’s edge as it is, trying to convince them all that he’s back to normal and that none of his head (or heart, or loyalty) still belongs to Loki.

* * *

The shrinks know about his nightmares, of course, though he gives them only enough info to make them stop barking up that tree. His sleep is rarely pleasant, or lasting, but that’s something he’s dealt with before, and it’s one of the common side effects of trauma; it’ll pass. (Or, at least, get better with time. Somewhat.)

What he shares with Natasha goes a little deeper: that more than once a week he ends up sitting on his bed all night, just trying not to think about anything in particular, and half wishing he could drown his dreams in alcohol or pills. He doesn’t, and she’d be able to tell if he did; a few all-nighters are nothing compared to hangovers and lingering brain-fog.

She doesn’t know that sometimes, when he’s staring into the darkness and listening to the night tick away, he remembers watching Loki sleep. That the two times Loki had _let_ himself sleep—just for half an hour, not even that—were the two times Clint got to see the expression behind the mask. And it was terrifying: a man caught in the grip of a nightmare he couldn’t escape even by waking up.

* * *

With the shrinks, he carefully avoids any hint of sympathies toward his erstwhile captor; he knows how quickly that could lead to a cell or even some creative reconditioning (and at this point he wouldn’t blame them).

With Natasha, he cracks his shell just a little bit more, discussing the way he’d felt while under Loki’s thrall. A helpless sense of devotion, akin to and yet stronger than he’d ever felt for her, or Laura, or the kids. That if Loki had asked it of him, he would have sacrificed wife and child and every last person on Earth to further his master’s plans.

What he doesn’t share is that sometimes, even now, he wonders where Loki is—not out of fear, but some residual care for his safety, like a father worried over his missing son.

* * *

While he was under thrall, every target lined up in his mind with no hesitation, no question that he was doing the right thing. The shrinks know that much.

Natasha knows that he’s not used to that kind of clarity—that his childhood was bad enough that he’s always struggled with issues of self-worth. That he joined SHIELD in part because he could turn his worries over to his handler and just follow orders, and that, for the most part, that’s worked out pretty well for his mental health. That he misses having a handler like Coulson, one he felt he could trust implicitly.

What he refuses to burden her with is the knowledge that Loki gave him something he’s yearned for his entire life: that sense of perfect purpose, no worries or cognitive dissonance, just losing himself in the task before him and letting someone else take the wheel. It was a high even Coulson couldn’t give him, and it’s hard, _so_ hard, not to collapse under the weight of yearning for it again.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Eventually, when he’s scrubbed his psyche raw and handed over a substantial part of whatever he can find under the remnants, the shrinks agree that he’s probably not a threat to the world anymore, and they clear him to return to field work. His new handler isn’t anything like Coulson, but she’s good enough to point him at the right targets, and he tries to get back into the rhythm again, to lose himself in the missions.

He visits home a time or two, reassures Laura and the kids that he’s fine, he’s _fine_ , it’s just the kind of thing you run into when you’re a secret agent who deals with the weird stuff that nobody else knows how to deal with. And between family and friends and teammates and coworkers, nobody really questions him anymore. He’s careful not to give them reason to.

It’s only with Natasha that he lets himself visibly grieve for what he’s lost—and he lets her imagine for herself, almost certainly incorrectly, the specifics of his grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Content Warning:** The Adult Fear is having a bad person know where your family is and how to get past your defenses -- Loki knows this about Clint's family, because he asked and Clint happily gave him even the passcode to tell his wife "It's okay, this stranger is a friend."
> 
> * * *
> 
> Stay tuned (near the end of this month) for potentially a big announcement!
> 
> Also, if anyone would be interested in joining me in an April Fools' Day group event/exchange, please let me know. I've got Big Plans there, I've already notified most everyone I'm in email contact with and quite a few I'm not, but I've got a lot more notifications to send out and I hope to have a lot of participation once April 1st rolls around. (If you don't care to participate but would like the idea to remain a surprise, probably best to stay out of the comments section on this chapter.)


End file.
